In Dire Straits

Text. "Speech". Thoughts.

Ears twitch atop the wedge-shaped head of a rather large Eurasian wolf navigating its way through the coniferous terrain of the dense forests. The movements of perked appendages dancing to the sounds of occasional birdsong and the last stirrings of nocturnal life, while nostrils burned with the scents of pine and fir that dotted the landscape with each inhale of the cold, crisp air.

Asger had witnessed the rise of two Suns since he had last rested, and, with the shadows now lifting from the land, it seemed he was in for his third sunrise, yet, even still, he showed no signs of weariness from his travels through the mountains and valleys that congested this part of the World.

Stride was deliberate, if not purposeful, the freedom of the wilderness made flesh with each ripple of muscular frame as eyes shifted in their sockets, the filtering of the first rays of light reflecting back from the tapetum lucidum behind each retina and causing his golden-yellow gaze to gleam and flicker with green and hints of red. It was in these hours that the fires of his hunter heritage shone forth, hearkening back to bygone eras of the Pleistocene where survival or death were one's only options.

For the former Night Hunter, however, Asger realized that nothing had changed since those antediluvian times, and the relative calm that had settled over the World since was a mere illusion; a lie that hid the fire and fury of nature that constantly bubbled and churned just beneath its surface. He had witnessed its lingering existence first hand, after all, and, while others broke under such understanding and let the fires consume them, the young male had thrived, letting it shape and forge him into a hardened weapon.

All of that seemed lifetimes ago with those lands so far behind him, the pup that he was, reborn and changed. Now, only the great peaks unknowingly hiding the Taiga were before the young adult, his stride slowing to an eventual halt as ears perk forth and he once more scented the air. Pack territory. His frame trembled, instincts and adrenaline fueling the monochrome hued mass of the predator as he meticulously scanned the landscape in search of its inhabitants.

Asger's breath released in puffs of white with each exhale into the cold air, his frame still twitching lightly as senses took in his surroundings. The forests and wooded terrain seemed to stretch on forever, a strange, almost enchanted land cloaked in white, but, what had called most to his young heart was the fury of the mountains. Soaring slopes and plummeting canyons, the lonely peaks and beetling precipaces rose around him and had awoken in the wolf the myriad of wonders in life to lead him to this valley.

The meticulous scanning of his gaze ceased upon catching sight of the Sentry as ears twitch atop his head, taking a moment to size up the other before slowly approaching. The fact he hadn't just been run off was something at least, though, he'd stop a respectful distance away, yet still close enough that neither would have to raise their voices too much. Features remained neutral as the name Saboro was invoked, obviously meaning nothing to the thickly coated canine whose weight shifted slightly where he stood.

In truth, his only business had initially been to see what was beyond the next peak, though, now that he was so close to its base, it seemed less of an option now. Still, he tasted the name that had been given to him for a moment before lips would frown slightly. "Is that the name of this land or the pack you belong to, I wonder?" The wolf growled out in inquiry. He clearly wasn't from these parts, evidenced by the guttural accent his voice possessed, still, despite the screaming of his limbs, his stance remained guarded towards the stranger, his ears perking forth.

Asger waited patiently while the other seemed to be momentarily lost in thought, or, perhaps remembrance, giving him a moment to glance around himself to ensure he wasn't being surrounded without his knowledge, unaware of their reputation, though wary nonetheless. Golden gaze shifted back to the Sentry when he spoke, the black dots of pupils focusing somewhat, on the male before him. He supposed that made some sense and would give a small nod as response. It wasn't unusual, though, enough lands were named differently than the packs that controlled them. His own home had been that way, in fact.

While the male may have been born to Betas, there was no slacking in his training due to birthed privilege and Asger had been pitted in spars almost as soon as he had been weened, though, the muscled, hardened frame he possessed now was primarily due to his wandering following the Mountain's spewing of the great fire.

He had walked endless miles and had witnessed hundreds of Suns rise and set since he had left the once peaceful and naturally protected valley that he had originally hailed from, so many, in fact, that his sense of original direction was spotty, at best. "Far to the North of here. I'm... unsure I'd be able to find it again, even if I wished to." Suggesting that he, in fact, did not.

If actual war experience is what the male before him expected, he would be sadly disappointed, though, Asger's father had spoke of real battle when the pup was young, his land had known only peace among the wolves in the Region, something that many had said made them weak. He wouldn't have argued the point now, however, despite the tenuous peace that existed, sparring was a near constant in what had once been his pack.

Asger wasn't necessarily adverse to conversation. The land he grew up in, however, was dead, both figuratively, to the wolf, and literally, from the cataclysm which decimated it, and, upon finally treking through the still hardening rock that had been newly formed over the valley and peaks that once guarded its pristine borders, the Hunter had left it behind in the remnants of his past where it belonged. He would only shrug at the comment of preparing himself. Few things shocked the Canine at this point, though, he would still squint slightly at the remark.

He eyed the other a moment as the questions were posed to him and gave a slight flick of his tail. The change in manner was abrupt, certainly, though it didn't seem to bother him. He grinned a little, nonetheless. He hadn't been stalking these lands out of a desire to find dependency, and his ears perked forward. Such a hostile environment did appeal to the former Night Hunter however. Nostrils flare again as he scented the air. There were scents of multiple wolves hanging about the area, despite the snows which dulled most other scents, though, he couldn't put an exact figure on how many. It at least showed this Sentry wasn't lying. That was always a start.

"Asger." He'd finally growl out after a few moments, falling quiet again as he pondered the rest. Eyes burned with an inquisitive nature as he sized up the other male once more, contemplating his words. "You would not 'give' anything. Only an omega would think otherwise and there are none here. I seek survival and strength. Whether that lies ahead in your pack or requires a detour around your territory makes little difference, the land itself weeds out the weak. There is no point in boasting of skill, or telling you what I can offer. What if I'm lying? If you wish to know my worth, place me against another who has already been bled and let it be judged in the only proper manner." His growl deepened as he spoke. He needed no rest, despite the burning in his muscles, the former beta had been bred for fighting, and in ages past, his father's line had been driven before pale Humans from the North, dressed in the pelts of the animals they'd unleash on unsuspecting neighbors, until both animal and Master became lost in fury and bloodlust. Although Asger had never had to endure the cruel hand of man, that same fire of his father, and his father before him, clearly burned behind those jet-black pupils set within the golden pools of each iris.

Asger, despite having been plowed into many times by frontal charges from his brothers and superiors, held his ground. Talking was done now and he had long learned from the mistakes of fleeing too soon, his own head dipping as the other quickly closed the distance between them. Asger, too, however began to move to meet him on the tree-clogged field that would be their battle grounds,  a slow trot. Most would have viewed a yearling on their own a certain death sentence, though, his self-imposed exile had proven fortuitous for the male. Most underestimated one who wasn't even yet full grown. Tail flagged in a dominant posture as their bodies closed, and he would brace for impact.

It was like slamming into solid rock! Enough to jar the entire being of the young, yet, determined male, his own muzzle parting and attempting to grab at Gabrial's chest, near the joint of his leg. Whether or not he was successful would dictate the hunter's fate, either throwing him a short distance before his hold could fully connect, or, leaving him standing, but heavily staggered and caught by the shaft of his foreleg. Brute strength was unlikely to work to his advantage, though, were he to remain standing, his weight would push into Gabriel as his own jaws bit into their furry prize.

Otherwise, he would simply get back to his feet to re-confront the sizeable male before him. Ears perked as golden gaze stared down the other, his hinds tensing before pushing him forward in a lunge of his own, aiming to catch the other by his muzzle.